


One Man in All the World

by Kaerith



Series: Witcher Prompt One-Shots [19]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Gen, Yes that was a Merlin reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25936450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: "My name is Vesemir. I am what's known as a Watcher. And you," he told Geralt," have inherited the supernatural powers of the Witcher. You have been chosen by Destiny to be this realm's champion against the monsters of darkness."
Series: Witcher Prompt One-Shots [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791685
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth)





	One Man in All the World

**Author's Note:**

> [It was my prompt.](https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=580013#cmt580013) I think I wrote this a couple weeks ago and I probably won't write any more. It was fun, though! No regerts.

Geralt had to go to a party. Eskel, his dear friend, was celebrating some milestone in his mage training, and his mentor Stregobor had arranged some sort of fancy gala ostensibly in Eskel's honor. Geralt would have rather stuck his hands in his forge than dress up and make uncomfortable small talk with rich folks, but Eskel had begged him to go. 

So here he was, uncomfortably stuffed into an expensive outfit that was too stiff and restricting, watching from a corner as Stregobor paraded Eskel around to his friends like a pet. 

"I love how you just stand there and brood." Geralt didn't bother responding to the musician who had approached him. The guy didn't get the hint-- or didn't care. "What makes you so tense that even my talent couldn't get you to do as much as tap your toes?" When Geralt still didn't answer, the man crossed his arms and stepped forward, blocking Geralt's view of Eskel. "Please give me feedback. My professional honor is at stake." 

"I just don't like music," Geralt finally ground out, trying to step around him to see Eskel. 

The bard turned to try to see what captured Geralt's attention. "Is something going on?" 

"This whole farce is in my friend's honor, apparently. But I have a bad feeling about it." Geralt finally saw Eskel. Still at Stregobor's side, though his smile was obviously strained by this point. 

The bard moved around to Geralt's side. "The apprentice wearing red? Looks like he's just anti-social. Not as much as you, though. And of course you have a bad feeling! If you don't enjoy any kind of music then you probably have the emotional range of a teaspoon and lack any joy in your very serious life." 

Stregobor manifested a magical spark that shot up to burst into sparkles of blue magic that fell from the ceiling and caught all the guests' attention. He led Eskel to the top of the stairs. "My friends and colleagues. We are here to acknowledge the talents of my apprentice Eskel. I have never seen such innate power or intuitive ability. After three years of training I have decided to bestow upon him the greatest of honors: to make him one of us!" 

A handful of the guests began to applaud enthusiastically. The rest of the assemblage, Geralt and the bard included, seem more confused but most of them began to clap politely. 

"A really bad feeling," Geralt muttered. Something inside of him was buzzing with tension and adrenaline began to pump. He started making his way through the crowd toward Eskel, who had a look of confusion on his face. 

Stregobor's face changed and he was suddenly baring fangs at the crowd. Eskel began struggling to pull his arm from his mentor's grip. His eyes scanned through the room until he found Geralt's. 

No longer caring about propriety, Geralt shoved people out of the way and ran toward his friend. There were inhuman sounds and screams around him, but he locked his eyes on Eskel and Stregobor and launched himself at the mage. 

The older man was unnaturally strong, but Geralt managed to match him with his blacksmith's muscles. Stregobor twisted and snarled in Geralt's grasp and slamming his head repeatedly into the marble floor didn't knock him out like Geralt hoped; it just seemed to piss him off more. 

"In his heart," an unfamiliar voice said, while a hand offered Geralt some type of weapon. Geralt moved even quicker than he thought he could, snatching the object from the hand and plunging it into Stregobor's chest before the mage could take the advantage of the fight. Stregobor's eyes went wide and then Geralt was falling _through_ him as he dissipated into dust. 

Geralt saw Eskel, looking pale and shocked but fine, and then looked to the figure who had given him the weapon that he needed: an older, vaguely familiar man with scars and gray hair. The stranger scooped up the wooden stake Geralt had killed Stregobor with and offered it to him again. "There are more vampires," he said, indicating the crowd. "Stake to the heart." 

" _Vampires?_ " Geralt and Eskel chorused. 

The old man grunted and offered another stake to Eskel. "We'll talk when this is over." 

By the end of the fight only a handful of living people remained: Geralt, Eskel, the old man, and the bard whose curiosity obviously overwhelmed his common sense. 

"My name is Vesemir. I am what's known as a Watcher. And you," he told Geralt," have inherited the supernatural powers of the Witcher. You have been chosen by Destiny to be this realm's champion against the monsters of darkness." 

"So those were real vampires!" The bard cut in excitedly. 

"Who are you?" Vesemir asked. 

"Just a humble bard by the name of Dandelion. We're friends," he added, indicating Geralt. 

Eskel smirked as Geralt grunted and rolled his eyes. "We just met half an hour ago." 

"And I can tell that we are going to be life-long companions!" Dandelion said cheerfully. "It seems Destiny has merged our paths so that I may spread the tales of the Witcher across this very Continent! Of course, I will practice only the greatest discretion concerning your identity. 'The silver-haired smith: protector of humanity!' Has a nice ring to it!" 

"Nothing conspicuous about that description," Eskel said sarcastically, eyeing Geralt's unusual hair color. 

* * *

Geralt came to on the floor of a cave, Dandelion hovering over him. "Did I get it?" 

Dandelion smacked him on his armor. " _Did you get it?_ That's what you have to say after _dying!_ You just fucking died, you arsehole!" The bard had obviously been crying. 

Geralt raised his hands and watched as he twisted them and flexed his fingers. "Seem to be fine." 

Dandelion huffed and jumped to his feet then stormed away. 

* * *

Goddamn katakans. This one in particular was fucking _ancient_. It was way too fast. Geralt hadn't expected one to be lurking about at this time of day or in such a small village. When he had arrived, found evidence of the monster and then declared that he would find it and kill it the villagers had ambushed him. He had fought them off, but the blood had roused the katakan. 

He thinks the people here were a cult that worshipped and nurtured the demon. He wonders what kind of pact they had made with it. 

Its spindly limbs held Geralt against the wall of a house and he was too weak to fight anymore. "I have killed your kind before," it hissed. "Your death might grant me another century of freedom before one of your successors finds me." 

A silver blade seems to sprout from its head for half a second before Geralt, the katakan, and a dark shape all tumble to the ground. Geralt can see the third figure duck into an impressive roll and spring back to its feet. Sadly, Geralt is so drained that he can't prevent himself from smacking his head against the logs of the building. 

"What the fuck?" He manages to mutter as he tries to focus his eyes to see who or what this is. 

"So far I'm unimpressed," the newcomer says. "My Watcher was all 'Geralt _always_ knows what he's doing' and 'the White Wolf could have done that single-handed,' but look at me. All coming to your rescue." The man whistles and holds out a hand. A woman peers from the roof of the house and then drops a vial down for him to catch. The man uncorks it and offers it to Geralt. 

A Witcher potion. One Geralt could really use right now. He grunts and takes it and tosses it down his throat. "Thanks. Who are you?" 

The man grins, his teeth white. It isn't friendly but it isn't antagonistic. Competitive, maybe? Challenging? "Lambert. Witcher." 

Geralt feels well enough to prop himself up on an elbow. "I was told there is always only one." 

"Well you died long enough for me to be chosen as your replacement. And Destiny didn't take these shitty 'gifts' back after you got undead. So now there are two. How the fuck did you manage to come back to life?" 

Geralt, Eskel and Vesemir haven't been able to quite figure that out. They think Jaskier did something, but the idiot keeps denying it. "One of my friends," he says, trailing off with a shrug. 

"Friends?" Lambert scoffs. "How the hell do you have friends with this job? Don't you travel? I'm a lone fucking wolf and I like it that way. I even try to get away from my Watcher, Keira. But she has a talent for being a stubborn splinter that won't go away." 

"I'm good at my job, you arse!" The woman on the roof, presumably Keira, calls down cheerfully. 

Geralt glances at her and then Lambert. "I'm stuck with an old man. At least you have someone pretty to look at." 

Lambert crosses his arms and thinks for a few seconds. "You may have a point. Though I think you'd have more luck trying to stick your dick in your old man than this harpy. Just a warning." 

* * *

There is a new big bad in Rinde, according to the rumors of the nonhumans. Some succubus, black mage, or higher vampire- no one knows for sure. Geralt goes to the manor house she has taken over just to do some recon. Of course Dandelion ends up following him, tripping over his own feet and drawing her attention. 

Geralt's vampire alert instincts don't start to jangle, but his magic-sensing medallion does. When Dandelion spots her at the top of the stairs (really, what is it with villains and stairs?) he loses the one iota of intelligence he has and starts hitting on her. 

"Pardon me, my most beautiful and gracious lady," Dandelion says doffing his foppish hat and bowing. "We were just here to admire the gardens. I also heard that there is a lovely collection of antiques here, and-" 

"I can read your mind, bard," the raven-haired woman says flatly. 

Dandelion just waggles his eyebrows and says, "Is my imagination doing you justice? Would you allow such a humble musician as I a glance at your beauteous-" This time he interrupts himself with a cough. Then another. And then he is spitting blood down the front of his doublet and is gasping for air as a goiter inflates on his neck. 

Geralt sighs. "He does deserve to be gagged, but would you please do it in a less permanent way?" 

The sorceress (she _must_ be) arches her elegant brows over her stunning purple eyes. "Are you sure, Witcher? What will you give me to save his life?" 

Dandelion's on his knees clawing at Geralt's arm in distress, on the verge of passing out. "Considering that you're also the one who threatens his life, I will hear you out before drawing my sword." 

"Pah," she says dismissively. "Good manners, Witcher, are no stakes in a negotiation. I thought that the Witcher was a lone warrior. Not someone who trailed chatty bards along after them." 

Dandelion topples over in a faint. "I haven't been able to get rid of him yet," Geralt admits. 

"Now's your chance," the sorceress says. "Or have you held on to your humanity, White Wolf?" 

Dandelion's heart beat is starting to slow. Geralt doesn't have time to argue. "Please reverse your spell. And then, if you’d like, I’ll indulge your curiosity all night long." 

"I'm not sure if you are interesting enough to take all night, but I’m sure we can find a way to fill the time." She waves her hand and Dandelion's flesh begins to recede and heal. His breathing resumes. "Leave him," the sorceress orders Geralt. "You may call me Yennefer. Follow me upstairs, Witcher." 

Geralt does, quite willingly.


End file.
